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Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Older the Better #promo #except #gay #erotic

Older The Better

’The hardest
part of loving someone is knowing when to set them free.’

Blurb:

Indiscriminate sex
with strangers is the only pleasure Charles has left in life. No matter how
much he wants a relationship, the memories of a painful break-up during his
youth won’t allow him to commit—until a friend persuades him to confront the
past—to confront the man who dumped him.

Taking his
friend’s advice, Charles returns home, in the hopes of rekindling the romance
with the man he lost. But, his father’s religious views and the backwater
community he grew up in aren’t so understanding when it comes to same-sex
relationships and, to his disillusionment, neither is the man he’s returned
for.

Excerpt:

They’d worked all morning, picking apricots. He loaded a box in the
back of a wagon hitched to the tractor and wiped a sleeve across his brow.
Charles was halfway up a ladder, plucking fruit from the upper section of a
tree. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his flesh had taken on a red tint in the
sun. Malcolm’s thoughts might have been exaggerated from the heat, regardless,
Todd had gone into the village, and he had an ache needing to be satisfied.

He dragged Charles by the hand over to the ‘56 Ford, and with
shaking limbs, Charles pushed either side of his cotton Y fronts and jeans
until they slid down to bunch about his ankles. At that moment, nothing else
mattered. Charles surrendered to him, his legs bowed as he leaned forward to
rest both forearms on the hood of the truck. Malcolm had no intention of resisting
the firm youthfulness of the body in front of him—the skin painted a striking
bronze, similar to the ribbons of mineral rich soil in the mountainside, and
the long, raven hair; Charles’ willingness gave him a boner and every excuse.

“Just do me.” His forehead rocked on the hood as he fondled his own
cock.

“I can make you feel so good.” Malcolm ran a pair of strong fingers
inside the crack of his ass.

“Fuck me then,” Charles whispered.

“No fucking. You’re not a piece of meat.” He knelt in the burnt grass,
using every available second to admire the beautiful young man. “I’ll only make
love to someone like you.” He kissed Charles’ ass twice then spread his
buttocks apart. Exposed, his hole puckered tight against the warm summer
breeze, and his balls crawled up. His tiny opening appeared unblemished,
there’d been no evidence of stretching, scars, or discoloration. Malcolm’s cock
swelled at the anticipation; sex with a virgin meant more than a treat, it was
a godsend.

Malcolm worked up extra saliva and dug his tongue in. While licking
and spearing, he slapped Charles’ sinewy thighs playfully. He moaned, bucking
his ass backward. Malcolm tried to be gentle as possible, keeping his own
lustful greed at bay. Getting up, he wiped his mouth and undid his belt, and he
introduced Charles’ body to a finger dripping in saliva. He whimpered, and
Malcolm paused to kiss his spine.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” His forehead hit the hood again.

But Malcolm saw a tear glisten on his cheek. “I think this is too
much. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We’ve been fooling around for weeks.”

As Charles talked, Malcolm positioned his cock and forced the
swollen bell past his tight rim. Charles tensed abruptly, rising on the balls
of his feet; his distressed cries lost on the wind as he gripped the hood.

“I’ll love you gently.” He took the greatest care when pumping, he
didn’t want Charles to tear and if he tensed too much that’s exactly what would
happen. Once his rectum accepted the intrusion, their bodies connected.

“Not huge. It just feels that way because you’ve never had anal sex.
Relax.... Close your eyes.” He palmed his balls then massaged his perineum,
applying pressure. “If you relax you’ll enjoy it more and the sex will blow
your mind.”

Charles nodded, his moans in sync with each thrust and his hole
became slick, slicker than saliva could do. Malcolm got a better grip on his
hips and grunted with escalating excitement, fucking much harder.

He forgot where they were, and how loud Charles was wailing. He
begged Malcolm to stop because he’d already cum and couldn’t handle the
repeated penetration. He rammed his tight ass one last time. When he’d regained
his senses, he eased his semi-hard prick out and slouched against the hood,
panting.

“What’s wrong with me?” Charles quivered.

“Nothing.” He hiked up his jeans, reaching in the truck bed for a
rag.

“Sometimes when a guy is really relaxed and his partner pushes deep
enough, the intestines release mucus—don’t worry about it. It just means you
enjoyed the sex.” He drew him in and held him snug about the head and
shoulders, and Charles hugged him, sniveling. “It’s okay.” He wiped his ass
with the clean side of the rag. “You’re beautiful.”

“I love you.” Charles hugged him tighter.

He had expected to hear it sooner or later because he sensed
Charles’ feelings—hell the kid would do damn near anything to make him happy.
Nevertheless, love superseded what he’d wanted them to share. The relationship
had gone too far.

Not knowing what to do, he’d said the same words out of respect. “I
love you too.”

Malcolm’s eyes
popped wide open and he stared at the ceiling, breathing fast. Cum had landed
on his abdomen and clenched fist. He hadn’t masturbated in a very long time,
had no urge until recently.

“Damn you,
Charlie!” Rising from the bed, he dashed into the adjoining bathroom and washed
the evidence of his desire away

Leaving the towel
in a heap on the counter, he wandered back in the room and flopped out on the
bed. His emotional state hadn’t been to healthy the last fourteen years. He’d
suffered with bouts of depression due in large part to a guilty conscience. And
the moment Charles reappeared on his back porch didn’t help. There was no
denying, he was sexier—a mature sexy, and the way he’d looked in the moonlit
cherry orchard....

“What the hell am
I thinking!” He grabbed a pillow, beat it repetitively to a lumpy pulp, then
lay on his side with it jammed under his head. “He just has to go—I’ve got to
make him leave!” A ridge of hot moisture filled his eyes as he stared at the
opposing wall. “Where are you, Charlie?”

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ABOUT ME

Blak Rayne is a best selling author of gay romance. She loves to write and believes it's one of the greatest forms of self-expression. What better way to see inside the human soul? Blak resides in Canada, and yes, she is a woman, wife and mother. She’s been writing and drawing since elementary school, and she loves anything that involves the arts. As for family, her daughter is her toughest critic and greatest support!

I post a variety of content such as articles linked to my blog. I will also share images, jokes, or information; whatever inspires me. 99.99 percent of the content is intended for adult viewing. Enough said!